Shades of Grey
by Faded Wallflower
Summary: Hermione Granger has a secret she's been running from. And Draco Malfoy? He's always running... HGDM
1. Help Me

_**Chapter 1 - Help Me…**_

The night was beautiful. A star-crossed lovers night, a moth-weight kiss night, a listen-to-the-dark night. This was a night to remember.

It was the night that had lured him out. She was a temptress of sweet autumn air, of a pearl-white moon that brought back memories. Memories of when the dark was familiar and he had almost been able to touch the stars.

But now she had shown her true nature, a poisoner, an unraveler of life. Because with the gentle glow of moonlight and starlight came the enemy: a cloaked silhouette he had learned to loathe. And now he was on the run.

He was always running, really. Running from the world that threw him away. Running from the life that had taken its own twisted path. Running from those who still insisted on pursuing him, even though he had tried hard to knock them off the trail.

The truth was, he was tired of running. Of always being scared, of waking each day not knowing if it would be his last.

But it didn't matter, because the only thing he lived for was to run away.

The figure cloaked in black was gaining. Cursing, he sped up, pushing his legs and lungs to the limit. The city melted away, replaced by the thump of his feet on the sidewalk and the beat of his heart and the ache in his side. Inwardly, he scolded himself. He should have known better. What an idiot he was – he should have never been walking out at night in the first place.

What had he been thinking?

He abruptly turned a corner, hoping to confuse the Death Eater. Or the fighter for the Light. They were all the same now, for while the Dark wanted to kill him and the Light wanted to capture him, they both had the same final goal in mind: his defeat.

For Draco Malfoy was an enemy of the world.

He stared at the brick wall in front of him, his exhausted brain taking a second to register what it meant.

Dead end.

His already pale skin turned, if possible, even whiter. He drew his wand, turned around, and faced his opponent, the figure's face still concealed beneath the hood.

_"Expelliarmus!"_

Still in shock, Draco was caught unprepared. His wand flew out of his hand, landing in the darkness beside him, and he was thrown against the bricks. He landed face-downwards, wincing as his face hit the asphalt. He started shakily to his feet, hands groping frantically for his wand.

"_Avad_- NO!" the figure's voice suddenly lost its icy quality and became high pitched and frightened. Draco furrowed his brow, temporarily abandoning his attempt to retrieve his wand in confusion. Where had he heard that voice before?

The stranger was now on his knees, trembling. "NO! Don't make me...please..." And then the hood fell back, the stranger's face finally revealed in the silvery moonlight. Draco's eyes widened in shock.

_Granger?_

She was deathly white, her lips, by contrast, a pale rose. The moonlight caught the streaks of tears on her face, and her caramel eyes, once filled with laughter, were now pools of anguish. Then she caught sight of Draco.

"No…Get away! I don't want to – _Avada Ked_ – NO!" She shrieked, and burst into tears. Draco's fingers brushed something thin, but then his wand slipped through his grasp and rolled to a patch of moonlight a few feet away.

"Draco...help me..." He looked over and saw that she was unwillingly rising to her feet, as if some invisible force was pulling her up. Then she raised a trembling wand-arm.

_"Avada Kedavra!" _

Draco dived for his wand, narrowly missing the spell. Bricks and debris rained down on him as it hit the building. He leaped to his feet and pointed his wand at Hermione.

"_STUPEFY!_"

The spell hit its mark, and she fell in a crumpled heap. Draco waited a few second before approaching: the Hermione he remembered was hard to overpower. She lay still as he carefully turned her over. She looked so peaceful, the moonlight shining through her almost-translucent eyelids. You would never had known, thought Draco wryly, that she had a tongue that could slice through steel.

Since she didn't seem to be waking up anytime soon, he leaned against the wall that wasn't completely destroyed and thought the situation over.

The simplest thing to do would be to leave her here, but that seemed...wrong. Who knows what could creep up on her while she was unconscious?

But then, she had tried to _kill _him. And tried to stop herself. It seemed like someone or something was trying to control her...unless she had suddenly gone over to the Dark side. He grinned at the thought of Granger bossing around the Death Eaters. But little Miss Know-It-All would never work for Voldemort willingly. Maybe the Light had finally decided they were tired of chasing him and just wanted him dead. Only one way to find out...

He carefully rolled up her sleeve, then recoiled in shock. The Dark Mark was imprinted on her creamy skin, pulsating in that familiar way that now disgusted him.

He drew away from her. He would leave her, this was her problem, no way he was going to take a _Death Eater _with him...

_Draco…help me…_

He cursed. He couldn't leave her that way, looking so naive and perfect. The Draco Malfoy who would have left her defensless was long gone, and he could no longer act as heartless as he once was. Besides, his curiosity had been aroused. What was _Granger _of all people doing with the Dark Mark on her arm?

He sighed and picked her up, groaning under her dead weight. Staggering a little, he stepped back onto the street, the black cloak of night enveloping them both.

_Help me..._

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**A/N: **Don't worry; both characters will be more-or-less back to normal in later chapters. Draco WILL be his usual snobby, asshole self, and Hermione WILL be her usual hate-Malfoy, know-it-all self. And before you attack me for making Hermione try to kill Draco, please remember that murder is a crime punishable by the law. So please refrain from stabbing me with a spork. Thank you.


	2. Fiery Ice

**A/N: **At the begening of this chapter there's a little dream/flashback, thats meaning will be clear in later chapters. This is one of those stories that reveals things a little at a time, so bear with me. And no, Hermione is NOT a Death Eater. This will be explained below, so please read!

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_**Chapter 2 - Fiery Ice**_

_She felt cold...so cold...colder than she had ever been in her entire life. Buried in ice, covered in snow. _

_"Him or you...it's either him or you..." _

_She was cold because there were decisions. A choice she must make. And she knew what the answer _should _be, and that made her blood turn to ice. _

_"Choose now...choose or it will be too late..." _

_She looked over at his unmoving form, and was reminded of her answer, reminded of how, no matter what happened, he had to be safe. Because she loved him. _

_"Take me..." _

Hermione Granger woke up from a haunted dream. She woke reluctantly, because the dreams were the only things that belonged to her now. They kept her sane, but what sort of sanity was this, where things that were unreal reminded her of who she was? She waited for the grapple that usually followed the dreams, a fight for her mind that she almost always lost.

But it didn't come.

She opened her eyes.

She was lying on a couch, in what seemed to be an apartment, judging by the view outside the small window. The room was messy: books and clothes and the what looked like left-over pizza littered the floor. Hardly the sort of place you'd expect to be the Dark Lord's lair.

And then she realised she was free.

It was a wonderful feeling. Like waking up on the first day of vacation and realising that school is finally over. The alien presence in her mind was gone, and she had room to manoeuvre. She moved her hands slowly, gently rotating them at the wrist. It felt so _good_. Her skin no longer felt cold and unfamiliar, it was hers once more.

This having been resolved, she cautiously made her way to the door at the end of the room and turned the handle. It was locked.

She scrabbled for her wand, but it wasn't in her robes where she had left it. Why was that? She furrowed her brow in confusion.

Then it hit her.

Last night. Malfoy. She'd fought it but...

Oh God.

She'd tried to kill him, he'd stupefied her, and now she was in his apartment. She frantically jingled the doorknob, but it was stuck.

Her eyes darkened in determination. There was only one thing to do: break down the door.

******_-----------------------------------_**

Thump. Thump. THUMP.

Draco woke up to what seemed to be a herd of hippogriffs trying to break through a wall.

THUMP.

Or one Hermione Granger trying to break out of his living room.

THUUUMPPPPPP.

It seemed that his prisoner had regained consciousness. How could that be? She wasn't supposed to wake up until 12 o'clock...he looked at the watch on his bed side table.

**12:34 **

He groaned. How could he have overslept? Trying to ignore the sounds from down the hall, he got out of bed, quickly dressed, and made his way to the living room. At the door, he quickly whispered his name to the keyhole, instantly activating the voice-recognize spell he had placed on the lock. The door flew open.

He was immediately met by a kicking, scratching, punching Granger.

After some time, he finally managed to fight her off and get her back into the room, and she stood against the opposite wall panting. Her eyes were bright and wild, like a feral cat's, and she bore a cut on her lower lip, no doubt from slamming her body against the door.

_"You_" She hissed.

"Yes. Me" Draco replied, undisturbed.

She looked frantically around her, as if some alternative exit would suddenly appear. Realising there was none, she once again turned to him.

"Let me go." A demand, plain and simple.

"Now, why should I just let you just waltz out?"

"Because I don't want to be in a cage anymore. I want to fly free."

"How poetic..." He said sarcastically. She quickly tried another tactic.

"Besides, it would be the humane thing to do."

His eyes darkened. "_Humane_? Let me ask you, how _humane _do you think it is was last night when you tried to Kedava me in that alley?"

She didn't say anything.

"Why the hell did you do it Granger?"

"Maybe it had something to do with the little fact that I've hated you since the first day I met you..." She muttered, not meeting his eyes.

"Don't give me that crap, Granger, you didn't want to."

This made her angry. She stuck out her chin and looked him square in the eye. "And how would you know that?" She spat, defiance dripping off every syllable.

"Oh, come _on_. A _normal _murderer doesn't tell his victim he is sorry for trying to kill him, while alternately shouting half-Kedava spells and trying to stop himself".

"Well maybe I'm not a normal killer." She turned away, avoiding his steel-grey gaze that cut through her.

"Besides, you have the Dark Mark on your arm."

Her eyes flashed, a million mirrored images of hate and disgust and...fear? But then it was gone, and her mood was instantly cool and careless. "What's it to you?" she asked casually.

"What's it to _me_?" he exploded. "You tried to _kill _me last night, kill as in finished, obliterated, destroyed, slaughtered-"

"I _know _what to kill means, thank you very much!" She snapped, but he ignored her.

"And I want to know _why_! In case you haven't noticed, I am trying to SURVIVE here. And that means knowing whatever I can about the enemy and their motives!" He paused for breath. "Besides," he muttered "you owe me."

They both knew what that meant, Hermione more than Draco could know. If he hadn't stupefied her last night, or worse, if he had left her to her own devices...she shuddered. It wouldn't happen again. She promised herself it wouldn't.

"All right." She said grudgingly. "I'll tell you. But you better not interrupt!" she warned, adding a glare for good measure. Draco merely nodded his head impatiently and made a gesture for her to go on.

"Well first of all, I think you better get a closer view at the Mark on my arm." She rolled up her sleeve and he approached with interest. "You see that?" She pointed to an unusual symbol next to the skull and snake. "That's what makes me different." She said, not waiting for an answer. "That mark allows...people to access my mind, and to make me do things, all the while with me still conscious. It is different from the Imperious curse, where the victim's mind is unaware the entire time. Unlike the Imperious curse, it also allows the 'possessor' full access to the victim's knowledge." She paused for effect.

A look of dawning comprehension crept over Malfoy's face. "Oh God." He breathed. "Granger, smartest witch of the century...I could just see the things they could do with you."

"They already have." She said bitterly. "How do you think they came up with all those twisted spells, those macabre potions, those flawless battle techniques? How do you think they could find you every time you thought they had lost you for good?" Her voice trembled ever so slightly. "It was me. It was all me."

They sat in silence, until Draco broke it.

"So…I suppose you could attack me any moment now, them being in control of your mind."

"No." Hermione said tiredly. "I think the spell needs to be reactivated. The shock you caused by the stunning spell should have broken the connection."

Awkward pause.

"Only one thing's bothering me." said Draco, looking at her cautiously. "The Dark Mark has to be accepted willingly."

She snapped, her eyes going icy cold, the room seeming to drop a few degrees. "That." She said. "Is none of your business."

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**A/N:** And with that mysteeeeeerious note, we end Chapter 2! Please R&R!


	3. A Well Constructed Mask

**A/N:** Thanks to all those who R&R! I just realised I didn't put a disclaimer for the previous chapters. This goes for the whole story: I am NOT (obviously) J.K Rowling, and everything but most of the plot belongs to her.

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_"Only one thing's bothering me." said Draco, looking at her cautiously. "The Dark Mark has to be accepted willingly."_

_She snapped, her eyes going icy cold, the room seeming to drop a few degrees. "That." She said. "Is none of your business."_

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_**Chapter 3 - A Well-Constructed Mask**_

She looked so frosty, so dangerous, that Draco decided not to press the matter. He had the basics, right? Anyways, there was plenty of time to wring the information out of her later. He smirked.

Meanwhile, Hermione had seemed to decide he had thought the situation through long enough.

"Well, are you going to let me go now?" She demanded impatiently.

"No." He said smoothly, bracing himself for the explosion that would no doubt ensue.

He was not disappointed.

"MALFOY, I WANT OUT! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG I WAS TRAPPED WITH THOSE DEATH EATERS? AND NOW I MANAGED TO FIGHT THEM OUT OF MY MIND! ONLY TO BE TRAPPED BY A LOUSY LITTLE –"

"Granger, hear me out. I'm NOT going to keep you here forever!"

"FERRET!" She shouted, and fell silent, glaring at him. Draco winced inwardly. Would that little incident when he was in school haunt him forever?

"Well, you have to admit, I did make a pretty sexy ferret." he said, temporarily forgetting the problem at hand.

She gave an unlady-like snort. "Arrogant bastard."

"Bookworm bitch."

"Perverted house-elf enslaver."

"Filthy little mudblood."

"Why does everyone think that will automatically makes me burst into tears?" she snapped. "I mean, it is just a _name_. I am above names."

"Well, whose Miss Snobby High-and-Mighty now?"

"FOR LORD'S SAKE!" She yelled. "JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU'RE PLANNING FOR ME!"

"Maybe I won't. I don't exactly appreciate being called a ferret you know."

"Probably because you _are _–" she stopped in mid-sentence. "Never mind. If you want to be immature, you can be that way."

"With pleasure."

"ARGGGHHH!" she yelled, and promptly sat down on the couch in a huff, refusing to speak to him.

He grinned. This was too much fun.

"One would almost think you _wanted _to have me close to you..." she muttered slyly.

Alright. Fun's over.

"For your information, I wouldn't have anything to do with you. You see, mudblood point aside, I don't usually go for beavers that look like they've gone through a forest fire. "

She gave him a dirty look. Dirty as in you-better-get-to-the-point-Malfoy-or-you-will-learn-the-true-meaning-of-wandless-pain. He wisely decided to comply.

"Anyway, I WAS thinking of simply stunning you again, modifying your memory of this place, and leaving you on Potter and Weasely's doorstep. That way you would be home and saved from the nasty-wasty Death Eaters, and I would be rid of you..." he looked at her carefully as he said this, unsure how she would react.

Surprisingly, she went deathly pale, her eyes clouded over in a distant look of sadness and fear. "I really don't think Harry and Ron want me right now…" she muttered, looking at the floor. She half-expected Malfoy to press the matter, and didn't know how she could bear it. She didn't know if she could still stand strong without breaking down. Her mask was so well-constructed, so perfect, but just a little tug at one of these threads would unravel it away...

Surprisingly though, he didn't ask any questions. He said simply: "I guess you're stuck here then."

When she remained uncharacteristically silent, he said briskly. "The door is locked with a spell that responds to my voice only, and is resistant to all imitation spells or potions. The walls are webbed with anti-escape enchantments, and I still have you're wand. I'll bring you something to eat later on."

He walked out of the room briskly. The door closed on the image of Granger, shoulders trembling as a single crystal tear rolled down her cheek.

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**A/N: **Ah yes, Hermione is ever secretive. Don't worry, it'll all come out...eventually. Please R&R!


	4. An Expressionless Page

_**Chapter 4 – An Expressionless Page**_

Hermione Granger was sitting on the couch. She had been sitting there for days, never crying, never talking, never shouting, just carefully examining the wooden floors, as if they contained a map of life's twisted designs.

Draco looked at her in concern. The first week or so of her captivity, she had fought daily, arguing and debating and coaxing. Draco had appreciated it: it gave him something interesting to do, and it kept her sharp and fresh, keeping the madness that seemed to stalk her at bay. The tears that haunted her at night were ignored, and the next morning she was always just as stubborn and cheeky as the day before.

_"Granger, you really are a pathetic excuse for a female." He told her coldly, after a particularly stinging insult that day. _

_"And why is that?" She asked, her eyes flashing characteristically. _

_"Well, think about it...most girls at you're age are dating or getting married or have kids. And here you are, running around with the dark mark on your arm and trying to KILL off super sexy guys like me rather than flirting with them."_

_"What the hell is wrong with that?" she snapped. "We're not ALL living in the Middle Ages where women have no rights whatsoever and are considered beneath men."_

_"Don't get me wrong, I'm all for women taking charge and all," he said breezily. "I just meant that it is really pathetic when a girl wants a guy but can't get one…" He looked at her meaningfully._

_She snorted. "Malfoy, you know nothing about my love life."_

_"Oh, you think so? What about you and Weasely?"_

_She didn't bristle, as he thought she would. Instead her shoulders dropped and when she spoke her voice trembled ever so slightly. "What about me and Ron?"_

_He probably should've taken the hint and backed off, but it was nice to see her unnerved every once in a while._

_"You think I didn't see?" he sneered. "You had SUCH a crush on him..."_

_"Stop." She muttered._

_"All that fighting, keeping your feelings hidden, _No, of course I don't like Ron_…"_

_"Stop." She said, raising her voice a bit._

_"And he was such an idiot, he didn't even notice..."_

_"STOP IT!" she yelled._

_"But it didn't really matter because he didn't give a damn about you anyway." _

_"He didn't?" she said faintly, and Draco was reminded of a small child in the face of tragedy, crying, begging to be told it was all a lie. He should have stopped then and there, told her of course Ron liked her, and that he had just been kidding._

_But he didn't._

_"Of course not, you were just a bushy-haired know-it-all that annoyed him to death."_

_"Oh." She whispered, her eyes distant. "Oh."_

It had all gone down hill from then.

It had been gradual: clouds of emptiness would pass over her eyes, she wouldn't retort when she insulted her, meals were left untouched on the plate. Little by little an invisible monster gnawed at her soul.

And then one day she just gave up.

Now she just sat there, day after day, lost in her own hazy world. And Draco was worried.

He wasn't worried the way a friend would be, or a brother would be. He was worried in a human way. He didn't want to see anyone waste away. So many people had been murdered, slaughtered as if they were no more than leaves that died in autumn. He wanted it to stop, to shut it off. He wanted people to breath, to fly over the fear.

He wanted Hermione Granger to live.

"Granger, you gotta eat." He pushed the pizza closer to her, as he would a stray cat that was too scared to reach out. She said nothing, just stared at the floor. "Don't make me stuff it down your throat."

No response.

He sighed. "Your already bony and boobless as it is...you're not exactly improving your already slim chances of ever being beautiful." The insult was gentle, a tiger that batted without claws.

Still she said nothing. He opened his mouth to try again, but she cut him off.

"I'm going to tell you everything." She said, her voice dull and flat. He automatically fell silent, glad that she had uttered her first words in weeks. Besides, he had a feeling that the information might be important.

"The Death Eaters caught me when the second time they raided Hogwarts. I was caught in a duel with Bellatrix Lestrange, and some little sneak – one of the lesser Death Eaters – stunned me while I was deflecting an Avada Kedevra.

"I woke up in a cell. Voldemort was there." Here she raised her head, and Draco saw the faintest hint of pride still lingered in her gaze. "I wasn't afraid. He said he would kill me. I said he could go on, there was nothing stopping him. If he felt like killing a wandless girl would make him feel powerful, he could go ahead.

"He looked at me for a moment. Then he made me...an offer.

"He said that I could accept the Dark Mark and become one of them, and he would spare me my life. He painted twisted images of a world of peace and harmony, where I could have whatever I wanted. But it didn't hold any lustre for me, and it didn't matter. Because the only thing I wanted was something no one could give me, a star just out of reach.

"I said as much, and he gave me one of his cold-fish grins. And he said that he couldn't give it to me…

"…but he could take it away. He snapped his fingers. And they brought Ron in…" she drifted off as the memory consumed her.

_He was barely breathing, his eyes half-closed. His was pale, and his freckles stood out firmly in the gloom. The top of his head was caked with something red...what had happened to his hair?_

_It was caked with blood._

_She was reminded, absurdly, of a food fight they had once had at Hogwarts, the potatoes and gravy airborne. And the crowning moment, when she, Hermione Granger, broccoli and creamed spinach flying from her bushy hair, whipped around and nailed Ron Weasely with the entire tub of spaghetti sauce._

_He had looked at her in utter shock before bursting into laughter. And they both laughed and laughed until their sides hurt and McGonagall came in a huff and suggested rather nastily that they better shower before going to detention._

_She was snapped out of her thoughts by Voldemort. "He'll live." He said coldly. "If you accept the Dark Mark." _

_She had never hated anyone more than she hated him at that moment. She hated him for killing Harry's parents, for murdering Cedric. She hated him for Sirius Black and for Albus Dumbledore. She hated him for making her life a constant fight, a never-ending battle. She hated him for torturing Ron, just to get to her. She hated him for drawing her out of food-fight memories, when blood was only spaghetti sauce. _

_But most of all, she hated him for knowing what her choice would be. _

_She pretended, uselessly, to think about it. _

_"If I accept the Mark, do I have to do what you say?"_

That's right Hermione, act smart...

_Surprisingly, he shook his head. "No. You just go through the ceremony, and let us do what we want with you." He leered eerily, and she recoiled in disgust. No, she wouldn't do it, nothing was worth it, besides, she was technically more important to the Order than Ron, from a strategic point of view it would be much better if he -_

Ron.

_His name broke through the turmoil in her mind, simple and perfect. Her mind swelled with a million images of Ron: Ron laughing, Ron smiling, Ron pouting, Ron arguing, Ron complaining about Scabbers, Ron playing Quidditch, Ron in that horrible_ _frilly thing he wore for the Yule Ball, Ron fuming about S.P.E.W, Ron looking at her in grudging admiration...Ron._

Ron.

_How could_ _her heart feel so full? It stretched and ached, oh how it ached. It hurt too much, how could she do it? _

_She could. She must. She would. Because it was Ron. _

_"Fine." she snapped. "Take me."_

She re-entered the real world, the world where she must be ice to keep the pain away. Malfoy was looking at her with an expression of astonishment on his pale ferret face.

"The ceremony took place the next day. I'm sure you know how it goes..." Malfoy nodded. "When it came to the time where I would receive the Dark Mark, they tattooed a strange symbol next to it, and then they proceeded to magically link me to Voldemort." Her voice remained expressionless, blank as an empty canvass.

"You know how they bind the spell, right? Voldemort must grant the one receiving the mark a boon." Draco nodded. He had always found this slightly ridiculous: the Dark Lord granting wishes as if he was a fairy godmother or something. But it did get the job done, and Death-Eaters-to-be were always instructed to make simple, easy wishes. Besides, if Voldemort refused after he had promised, he would immediately die. The binding spell was like an Unbreakable Vow.

"I couldn't ask him to let me go, because then he would only kill Ron and me as soon as the ceremony was finished. But I did ask him to promise he would let Ron go. And I asked him to erase Ron's memory of the last few days. And he agreed. And I felt him take over me."

_Her mind was fused with the enemy, one on one, dark with light. And the dark swallowed Hermione up. And life became a living nightmare…_

Malfoy didn't ask why she wanted Ron not to have those memories, but she told him anyway.

"I didn't want Ron to remember, to suffer. I knew the day and my decision would haunt me for ever. I didn't want that for him. I didn't want him to feel guilty. I didn't want him to feel the aching pain that gnaws at my heart day after day after day. I saved him because I wanted him to _live_.

"And he did. When I was with _them _they allowed me a newspaper once in a while. And one day in the Daily Prophet I saw what he had done with his life, the one I had given him: Ron Weasely had married Lavender Brown."

They sat in silence for a while, until she broke it, her eyes bottomless vacant pools of emptiness:

"And I'm telling you this because I'm going to die soon."

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A/N: The angst is killing me...I should really write happier stuff. Anyway, I know it is going kind of fast, but if I don't do it this way, I lose interest :P. Thanks to all those who R&R...and if you haven't please do so!


	5. Rekindle the Spirit

_**Chapter 5 - Rekindle the Spirit **_

Malfoy looked at her in a mixture of anger and confusion and disbelief.

"What did you say, Granger?" he sputtered.

" I. Am. Going. To. Die. Soon." She repeated, her voice vacant.

Malfoy looked at her in utter bewilderment for a split second, then grabbed her by the shoulders and started shaking them with all his strength.

"You Bitch. Don't you EVER say that. NEVER. You filthy little Mudblood, do you really think that death will fucking solve anything?" He shouted. Oh God, if only he could get a reaction, a flicker of life...but there was nothing. He shook her harder. "He was a school crush for chrissake! Granger, don't you DARE give up. Don't you DARE. If you do, I'll..."

She said nothing, and he let her fall from his grip. In that soulless voice she said "Do what you want Malfoy, no one can hurt me now. Because it's over."

"And you're just going to let it happen?" He demanded "Where's that book freak that never gave up and was always determined and always got everything right? Because guess what, little Miss Know-it-All, this time you've got it wrong."

She laughed, and it had as much warmth as a glacier in winter. "No, you're the one that's wrong. You're the one that is actually going to try to pull me through this, you're the one that's trying to survive in a world where everything eventually ends in death."

Oh Lord, she was serious. She was fucking serious. She was just going to give up. And boy, she had another thing coming if she thought he was going to let her.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, he thought. And he grabbed her and kissed her.

It wasn't a romantic kiss. Love isn't something that develops after a mere few weeks together. Love isn't something that happen in the middle of a world of war and death and hate. Love isn't something that happens to Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. And this wasn't love. It was more like a transfer of lifeforce, Draco Malfoy trying to rekindle the bushy-hair beaver with an unfailing stubbornness and witty comebacks he knew was there somewhere. He warmed her soul and breathed in her spirit, hoping beyond hope that this last and desperate measure would work.

And then he felt something wet and salty touch his cheek.

She was crying.

And he had never felt happier. He wanted to climb the highest mountain, swim the widest ocean. But for now, there was Granger, Granger that was crying and crying and shaking and laughing as if she would never stop. And he could still taste the toffee tears on his lips as he laughed too, for what seemed to be for the very first time.

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**A/N**: Thanks for reading, if you haven't R&R'ed please do so! I would really really REALLY love feedback on the kiss. Was it realistic? (Within limits, we all know the JK Rowling's Draco and Hermione would NEVER kiss, the characters are a little OOC) What message did it put across? Thanks!


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